Manifest
by Oh No Its Jeanne x
Summary: Mello has come to a dead end. Rated for suicidal themes. Review or else. Come on, first posted FF! R&R pl0X? Update: DONE!
1. Chapter 1

"And only a family

Both loving and true,"

Night fell over Westchester, London, and blanketed the streets with a deluded ebony, starless. The only light provided came from the street lamps, for even the most situated night owls fled to their blankets and into slumber. Mello sat with his facing away from the streets of Westchester, the hard window providing him support while the heap of his scrawny shoulders and upper back were hunched forward a bit. The boy's fingers tampered with Matt's missing lighter; there was long background behind his reasons for this next action. There was a reason that on the night of July 7th, Mihael Keehl would take his life.

He took a drag of musty, heavy air from his and Matt's room into his lungs and coughed a bit, standing up. Nervously he strode to his desk on the opposite side of the vast, vacant room and picked up a pen and felt for his notebook by the lamp and stapler. He placed the tip down to his sheet of paper and let his mind take over, allowing himself to write freely, uncaring as to the world around him. Which didn't prove possible. He could swear he heard footsteps and voices as he began to write his note. The reason behind this to him was understandable. To anyone else, well, they just wouldn't understand.

-x-

_Mello stood before his cold, unfamiliar mafia, his helmet resting under his arm and the hijacked motorcycle against the brick wall a few yards away. He knew they couldn't take each other anymore. He knew that each man before him hated the next over, and it certainly wasn't a secret. The fighting and chaos that went on his this backstreet alley was nothing new to any of them but Mello, as their Don, felt something was wrong and had to call this off. "So who will take the lead?" Glen asked him, an uncivil look on his face that would probably come off as unacceptable in society if worn anywhere else. "I need this job."_

_"Don't think I didn't take you as individuals into consideration before I decided on this." Mello bowed his head and sighed, and as he knelt down to fix his steel-toed boot, he could feel a deep stinging place itself in his back and he gulped. Glen was behind him, holding a switchblade in his shoulder. "I'm stronger than you think, Glen."_

_"Prove it." Mello slammed Glen into the brick wall but the other man still had his grip on the knife and twisted it hard in Mello's back; Mello had to stifle a yelp. The blonde pulled away and tossed a jacket over his shoulders, took out his key and casually switched it into the bike's ignition, and sat down on its seat. "Sort it out amongst yourselves, you dolts." Then Mello managed a grin and sped away._

-x-

As he sat against the window, it occurred to him just how much he had been hated among the small band of people he'd known. And now what? If the ones who knew him best no longer wanted him here-well, why should he? Mello, even as a child, never valued himself. And he would have to make that clear to everyone else before he could get anything out of this life again. He looked down at his writing.

"Damn you to hell; immortalize you. I can't take this life anymore. The money from drug and gun trafficking does to Watari. And to the rest of you bastards, nice try." Mello nodded to himself and folded it onto a square, setting it by the lamp once more. But the flame flickering from the lighter next to him was too daunting. He already had a scabbing wound in his back, blood soaking through his jacket though now dry, but he knew it wasn't life-threatening. Unfortunately. It was just a skin injury-nothing more. He pressed a sigh from his tired lungs and picked up an extra pencil sharpener razor from the drawer to his left. This would do just fine and he knew no one was around to stop him. He dragged it across his wrist lightly, unable to press it any harder. He knew suicide was right, but then why did it feel wrong? There was no other way. He knew it. He lifted the straight-edge and tried again, this time letting thinner blood trickle down his arm.

"Could conquer an evil

So ancient, so new."


	2. Chapter 2

"I don't bite,"

Matt felt the bile rise in his throat the minute he felt the block as he turned the doorknob. His and Mello's room was locked only when one was to bother and make it that way. Meaning, Mello, by default, had to be in there.

Mail Jeevas pieced it together quickly. His lighter was missing, and it was with his pyro roommate. And added to that, the blonde had the space to himself. Something had to be up. "Come on, ya douche. Open the door. I haven't had a smoke in an hour and I NEED my lighter NOW." He rapped his knuckles on the hard wood a few and lightly grunted. Now he was miffed. "You'd better be doing this for a damned good reason." That was it. No response. Matt took a pin out of his bag and formed it to pick the lock; took the liberty upon himself to open the door.

A disheveled, bloody Mello. But the first thing he saw was neither the crimson blood or the boy himself, but his lighter in the boy's hand.

"Ok, cough it up, Mel-the hell are you doing?" He strode over though every bit of him screamed in protest harshly. His anger and frustration in an instant turned to concern for his best friend, pretty much his only. His expression softened when the distraught boy looked up at him. Matt now had an idea of what was going on.

Both of them were 15. Matt figured that by now Mello had learned to trust someone at Wammy's.

Wammy's House; owned and directed by Quillish Wammy, going under the service name 'Watari,' was a school/orphanage for a select group of children. For those who don't know, L is the century's greatest detective. He has solved over 50 cases in the time he's lived, which has now piqued to just 27 years. Now, in 2003, he lives at Wammy's House where he was raised but nearly runs it. Watari was now his handler, and L worked as head of a police taskforce. Wammy's House groomed its students to be L's successors. But only 4 so far looked promising enough to suit the running.

Nate River – Near  
Beyond Birthday – B  
Mail Jeevas – Matt  
Mihael Keehl – Mello

As Matt approached Mello, he could see that the pain in the boy's eyes couldn't start to reflect the pain he'd inflicted upon himself. "Why?" Mello refused to answer and instead, took the razor to hover over his wrist teasingly. "Mello, don't. Please." Matt didn't want to see his one friend die on him like this. "Did something happen?" He placed a hand on Mello's shoulder, but it was over the stab wound and the blonde winced. "You couldn't have done this on your own…" he mused aloud. "What happened?" But it seemed like Matt was talking to a wall, rather a peer. A silence passed between the two. Matt knew he had to tell someone. But if he left Mello alone, there would be no way to stop him. The redhead let Mello go and took the hand with the straight-edge instead. Mello tugged his hand down but Matt struggled to keep it up. Finally, Mello won the tug of war and freed himself of Matt's grip.

Yell. Thrashing. Silence. Still.

The world was getting blurry fast and Mello could feel his arm come over with a stroke of heat. His body became hot; his frame trembled. He could hear his heart throb in his ears.

The force Mello used to pull away drove the blade straight to his vein. Matt was nearly paralyzed in fear. Fear for himself; fear for his friend. This was partially his fault; he wasn't strong enough to prevent this. Mello, he felt, was his responsibility if he was feeling this bad. They were best friends, weren't they? What could he do now? "Mello, stay with me…" was all he could manage before he really registered the situation, the severity. The blonde was losing blood fast and just the sight of it made Matt himself feel sick. He needed the nearest thing to soak up the blood, but what? He yanked on a thick curtain next to him relentlessly. No good. But the again, he wouldn't have been able to tear anything off anyways. So instead of trying again, he just eased Mello against the window and pressed the curtain edge itself to the bleeding wrist. He tried to apply as much pressure to the wound as he could. "Someone HELP!" he yelled when he saw Mello's eyes close a bit and dim. Hopefully, he thought, someone would hear him. He did leave the door open…

"Often, that is."


	3. Chapter 3

"Fear the children,"

No one in Wammy's House would have guessed that Mello was like this. No one would have guessed that Mello was suicidal. Matt held Mello's wrist up, continuing to push hard on the bleeding slit with the corner of the curtain.

L took it to the second cry for help to believe that something was really wrong. But the raven had held up his reputation as solitary and contained unconsciously; he would send his handler to the scene instead of going himself. "Watari," he called, his voice as his usual monotone and his tone grim.

"Yes, Ryuzaki." The elder approached, a bit shaken.

"Could you go see what that was about? And if B is involved...."

"I know; of course, Ryuzaki." Watari made his way down the long halls calmly, not expecting anything of the situation's nature. What he saw when he arrived devastated him.

"For they bring death."


	4. Chapter 4

**A/N: Thanks Savanna (did I spell it right? xD) for helping! I introduce my OC here, so any ideas or comments…please share!**

"Like a cold day in August,"

Watari had a conflict over what to do when he saw the damage. Matt had hot tears threatening to spill over onto his cheeks, and when he blinked and looked up, one did. "Please, help him. I don't know what's wrong, but…" Matt bowed his head, keeping his hand pressing the drapery to Mello's bleeding wrist. The blood was becoming thin and duller. The crimson color had no gloss. As Watari stepped towards Matt and Mello, L picked up the square of paper he found and opened it all the way.

"We are but snakes trapped, writhing in a cage. Sizes too small. Iron bars. Since entering Wammy's House, I've wanted to leave. I've wanted this life to be over. Damn you to hell; immortalize you. I can't take this life anymore. The money from drug and gun trafficking does to Watari. And to the rest of you bastards, nice try. I assume to see you again, for you all belong where I'm going.

"I've always wanted to meet God but I guess that'll never happen. No, never. These are my last notes; these are the only things you'll have left of me that mean shit. But it's not like any of you would want anything to remember this stray old dog by.

"I can't say I feel obliged to apologize to any of you. You're the cause of this. All of you. Not one person could have prevented this. I won't bother to bid any farewells. In that case…" There was no continuant. L turned back to look see the engagement behind him. He walked slowly to Mello and their eyes met by Lawliet's force.

"You're still alive," L stated blankly, but his point had meaning. The blonde was quiet; the raven stern. At this stage, though, Mello had no choice but to be. L looked to his handler. "Call an ambulance and make it fast. Be sure he's tended to quickly. There'll be plenty of questioning we can't figure this out if lacked." He then shot Matt a glare. "Will you be useful at all?"

"…"

"Do you want to be?" Matt nodded nervously. "Then go find a phone and get me some coffee for the wait. Mello, can you hear me?"

No reply.

-x-

Mello opened his eyes to daunting white walls and painful light coming from the cave-in window to his left. There were a few green planes on the inner windowsill, unable to serve their purpose of making the room feel more comfortable. Solitude; the feeling made Mello's skin crawl. He was more nervous and panicked than before with the feeling. As he went to raise his hand, he felt that it was locked in a cuff to his bed. He sighed. Thankfully, the other was not. This was the first time Mello had accepted that he had shown weakness. Though acceptance was a thing that Mello would never really know. He scrunched the scratchy hospital sheets before him into a tight ball in his fist. His eyes burned from his own anger and frustration. He grinded his teeth together, anticipating them to break, his gums to bleed, the sheets to melt and his eyes to tear.

He had expected this, so why was it such a surprise that he was here? A string of profanities left his mouth as he shifted a bit. All he wanted was for everything to be over; everything he had wanted he had given up on and now what he longed for was death. But how would he pull that off, he thought quietly to himself in his lonely hospital room. Every now and then he would hear footsteps but he dared not look up determined to burn a hole in to his sheets that he so desperately clung to. He took his sore wrist into view and eyed the stitches barely visible underneath the gauze wrapped around his wrist as if it would fall off like a decapitated head. He sighed and picked, then scratched, finally near-tore at it until he winced a little and saw a spot of red liquid on the gauze appear and mutate into a bigger spot. Millions of made up images flooded his mind as if it were a game to guess what shape it was like watching the clouds. He smirked as he popped another stitch and more shapes appeared. They're only shapes he thought to himself; they do not have feelings, they do not hurt, the do not cry, the do not bleed.

There was a curtain next to him; what the hell? He finally registered that there was someone else in the room with him. He took in a breath of stinging air, and coughed.

The girl was about as tall as he was to the shoulder, same age. Her skin was extremely pale and she wore large glasses that brought out her glassy green eyes. Her hair was dark and brown with one streak of pink that suited the bangs. She sat up from where she was with her older brother, excused herself, and stood up, rounding the curtain. "You ok?" she asked, tilting her head a bit, a habit she'd had for a long while when she questioned. She was a kind girl at heart, and since her own accident, she only cared about other people. When she stepped fully into Mello's view, the boy had to re-register what he saw.

The short, sweet-looking girl had one arm and a scarred leg. It nearly drew his attention away, but he kept his focus on.

"I'm Beau. Well, my mom calls me that and I hate my real name. It's Andrea." Obviously not from around here.

"Ok, then, who are you?"

"I'm actually here with you until you're let out..."

"Where am I then?" he asked dumbly, but Beau understood.

"You're in the psych ward at Kitai Memorial Hospital." The words struck Mello off-guard. She shrugged it off so easily too, like this was her entire life and he was just another puzzle piece. It was confusing, to say the least.

"You're kidding, Andrea."

"It's Beau."

"It's what I want it to be." Beau then looked at Mello's arm. "Oh, that's why you're here? It should have been obvious, come to think of it. And you might not want to pop stitches..." She looked down at his blood-specked arm. "It's only gonna scar you more and besides, it's kinda gross." She seemed like she didn't belong. She was so smiley and nice. What could she possibly be here for? She did have a bit of attitude about her, forceful, demanding. But it wasn't in a threatening way, more playful. But this girl could get her point across when she was serious. She bent forward and tapped Mello's hand. "Stop that, dummy. Seriously, when you get out of here, do you want people staring at your arm?"

"You really think it matters to me."

"It matters to anyone who cuts. And I know that. I've only been here for so long that I've met my fair share of people like you, you know."

"…"

She sat back on Mello's lap and put her hand on his shoulder, leaning on him a bit for balance. "I lost my arm," she stated blankly. "And the one I have is massively scarred. Do you want that? Do you know how hard it is just to unscrew a water bottle cap? Life isn't fair, but especially when this happens. I was like you, believe it or not. And I know you've been wondering on my attitude. Let me tell you that being here really changed me and you should think on that while I eat. And one last thing," she began, lifting herself off of his shoulder. She rotated her arm a bit-there were scars that one could feel in the skin, let alone easily see, vertically and horizontally up her arm. One was incredibly close to the top of her arm past the elbow where the vein began. "There. In that case, I'm leaving for lunch with my aid. You're not allowed to leave this floor. Think about what I said?" Mello shrugged. "_Please_?"

"I guess."

"Are you lying?" Mello shook his head, but Beau didn't buy it. "Serious? Look, I don't like to see people hurting no matter how much or little I know them. And by the way, we just started visiting hours. Anyone you know coming?" Damn. He knew L wouldn't come, but Matt? _Watari?_

"Probably," Mello gruffly sighed.

"Ooh, can I meet-"

"No." It was then that Beau went down for lunch and Mello was alone. But the door did not remain shut for long.

"Watari?"

"I was not prepared for this."


	5. Chapter 5

"Kill The Director"

The silence of the room was unbearable as Watari sat down; Mello looked away as not to face him. The elder didn't know what to do or say, because all he wanted was for his children to be happy, and he couldn't face what he was seeing. It was hard to believe Mello would this. He had shown no signs of having the thoughts he did. The question was-why?

There was a lot that Watari didn't know. Mello planned for it to stay that way. Though, such was not the case. Watari broke the dead silence.

"Do you feel alright?" No reply. "Do you want anything?" Mello had a certain degree of respect for him, which was the only reason he didn't spitefully reply demanding him to leave. The blonde just shrugged and averted his gaze from its flicker back towards the elder. Finally, he spoke.

"Company." Watari just nodded; he couldn't relate to what Mello was going through and all he could understand was that it was hard for him. It was hard for all of them.

"You don't have to say what you wouldn't like to, but why would you try this?"

"Because. Just…" Mello leaned forward a bit and rested his head in his free hand. A few tears rolled down his cheeks and onto the cheeks on his lap. Watari painfully watched as his second best broke down before him.

"Is there anything I can do?"

"I-I don't know." And the only sounds that filled the room for a long while were the blonde's sobs and the old man's heavy breathing.

-x-

"I'm looking for a_…" Damn, how do I pronounce the kid's name?_ "Mello." Matt felt like a total idiot going up to a desk and asking a foreign woman to find a boy by his seldom-recognized alias. She just looked at him and he sighed. "A kid with a stab wound to the back and a lot of cuts on his wrist."

"I'm sorry. I can't give out names by description." Frustrated, Matt took an index card with the hospital's number and address and stole a pen from the other side of the desk. He wrote down 'Mihael Keehl' and gave it to her.

"The room, maybe?"

"Mihael…" she mumbled, searching her computer. "134."

"…Thanks…" _Took long enough. _"Ya know what floor it's on?"

"Sir, there's a sign right in the doorway." Matt looked up. '100-120 West Wing' Below it; '121-135 East Wing.'

"Ok, now I have to ask where the East Wing is." The woman sighed and motioned to the other side of the desk. A new sign. 'East Wing.' Matt didn't bother to thank her for pissing him off and headed for the hallway instead. As the frustration and anger passed, all he could think of was what he was about to see. He had been scarred just by what he'd seen earlier, so his stomach churned at what could possibly have changed by now. He picked at his fingernail a bit and rounded a corner. In brass numbers, he faced-134. He had to breathe…maybe this wasn't such a great idea. Maybe he should have rested his mind a bit from the blood and emergency he had witnessed and just rested a bit. But, no. He was here, and his best friend was probably alone inside, not feeling his greatest, possibly more depressed than he was before. Slowly he opened the door, finding it was unlocked with half ease and half uncertainty. When he stepped in, he was relieved to see that Mello _looked _alright. But he had no idea how the blonde was feeling, and he knew he never would. "Mello?" The silence was broken; Mello looked up as Matt averted his gaze. "Oh, Watari, hi. Is this a bad time?"

"No, not at all. Here, come sit." Watari stood up to give Matt his chair. Matt thanked him and did so. First he spoke to the elder.

"Is he alright?"

"Ask _him_ that."

"Have you gotten much from him?"

"No, not much. But he's entitled to keep to himself. Mello, don't feel pressured to say anything you don't want to. As long as someone knows when you have suicidal thoughts and the like, you're fine. Can you promise me that, Mihael?" Mello nodded, though he would obviously tell no one. He just grunted a bit and lifted his head, his cheeks tear-stained and his eyes red and stinging. Matt kept his eyes set on the boy. Jesus…he didn't _seem _that great-just as he'd expected.

"You ok?" Matt managed to ask before getting misty himself. Watari but a hand on the redhead's shoulder; Matt didn't bother to shrug it off. Being here was painful enough…seeing his only real friend in so much distress. And it made him a bit angry that though Near hated Mello almost half as much as Mello hated him, he wouldn't show up. He had refused earlier and having stayed back, his refusal was still set. Matt flashed his gaze to Watari, searching for an answer in the man's expression. He found none. Mello's eyes shifted from Matt's and he shrugged. "Ok." Matt didn't know what else to say.

"Do either of you want anything?" Watari then asked, hoping to crush the silence. Matt shrugged; Mello didn't bother to answer. Watari quietly nodded to himself, just for the thought that he'd really gotten answers. Matt shifted in his seat a bit and reached out, touched Mello's arm, and turned it towards him. The blonde winced and Matt lightened his grip but continued to tug the arm towards him. He traced the beige bandaged with his finger, running it over the clasps as well.

"Mello…" He wanted to tell Mello how much he needed him, but Mello, right now, needed _him_ more, so that wouldn't help the problem. "You're really like a brother. I can't lose you."

"I'm doing this for you. Not to hurt you."

"And Near?"

"I didn't bother with him." Matt felt a bit better seeing that Mello was talking to him. Before he could reply, Mello's doctor walked in and faced the small group of people from the corner of the room. Matt looked at him and blinked a stray tear away. "Can you tell me what exactly happened…to him?"

"Here's what I know," the younger man started, looking down at his shoes, as if to show he felt awkward himself as well. "Our clinic down the street took him and basically cleaned out his wrist and his back. His back is severely infected, so there was minor treatment to help it along. Before he came to, we brought him here, where we specialize in psychiatric care."

"What kind of treatment would he receive here?" Watari asked.

"He'll get a psychiatrist, an individual therapist, an individual aid which will go with him if he wants to eat downstairs or go for a walk, for example, and if things go well, he can be allowed to walk on his own in certain wings. Visiting hours are 2PM-6PM and emergencies are handled on site." The man came towards Mello to look at his arm. "How's your back?"

"Hurts."

"Does this hurt too?" He pressed the dark red area around the deepest cut. Mello winced-his answer. "Ok, this should relieve some of the pain, at least." Mello's doctor picked up the syringe from next to him and carefully inserted the needle into Mello's forearm. The blonde hissed in pain and tried to pull away instinctively but his arm was gripped tightly enough that he couldn't break loose. "Ok, now just lay back." Mello eased himself onto his bed and sighed. God-when would the morphine work? Wasn't this supposed to make the pain go away? His arm throbbed and for a moment he could feel his pulse beating like a snare drum in his wrist.

"Want us to leave?" Matt asked, a bit shocked by Mello's reaction. Mello nodded and Matt looked up at Watari, then the two left. Mello was alone in silence once again. Soon he closed his eyes but remained awake. How could he sleep in a place like this?


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N: My chapters seem longer now. I don't know…please review and tell me how I'm doing so far!**

"I will make you suffer,"

Mello lay awake long enough to let a few thoughts brush by him, detailed enough for him to focus on. He looked around the white room in search of something to engage in. Anything. Beau hadn't come back yet and this was the one time he figured he'd want her to be there. All he could keep his mind steady on was his return to Wammy's, and when this would finally be over. But he knew he would have to be in this hospital for a long time before that was to ever happen. He also had to deal with the pain.

The pain of being here.

The pain of his slit wrist.

The pain of the infection in his back.

Just the thought of treatment sent a chill up his spine and he knew all too well that aside from his mental state, his physical state would play a part in getting him out of here. And it turned out that he was being given pain medications and injections for stress all day, every day. Which could easily hold him back from leaving.

Once he relaxed and forced himself to try and feel comfortable, his door opened. He expected another doctor or his psychiatrist. He sighed and looked away.

"Hey!" Beau walked in with a water bottle and straw in her hand. "You alright? You look pissed."

"I'm fine." Mello was starting to warm up to her. He no longer needed to spiteful with her. "How was lunch?" Did he really ask her that? He was being friendly to her.

Well, she was pretty cute. And extremely nice to him. But he couldn't figure out what made her so happy yet. One day, he might get up the nerve to ask her. No, of course he would. She was a happy-go-lucky disabled teenager and he was a mafia don. He didn't need to be uncomfortable around her-did he? There was something about her that made him feel weird around her. He almost felt unsafe, like something was to happen if he interacted with her too much. Maybe this bliss was a cover for something more?

"Lunch?" Her voice pulled him from his musing. "Good. I met my friend Bri down in the café. You should get to know her."

"I guess, but I'm hoping I won't be here long enough to get to know _anyone_ too well."

"I get it. Well, you're optimistic." Great. His façade was working. If he could keep this up, he could get out of here, back to Wammy's, then he could follow through with his original plan. "Are you sure you feel ok?"

"Yeah. How long were you gone for?"

"Quite a while, because we went for a walk around the grounds after. And guess what?"

"Hmm?"

"I earned a new privilege. I can go to lunch on my own now. I mean, I usually go with Bri, and she has an aid, but when I want to I can fly solo." Wow…that was an accomplishment? It made sense, considering she had been here for so long, but he couldn't picture himself ever being that thrilled about any of the goings on here. Beau looked at him and paused. "You don't look that great."

"My back is hurting again." Beau sighed, not sarcastically or mockingly, but like she really meant disappointment, which she did.

"Are you gonna be ok?"

"I already got two shots of morphine and that didn't help. So I really don't know." Beau just nodded and stepped forward, taking his hand in hers. It was a bit odd for him to know he was holding the only hand she had. He didn't know why, but he always pictured the males being the ones to nervously slip a hand into both of a girl's. This was the opposite way around. To say the least, Beau looked forlorn. She really liked Mello-he was the first person to share a room with her and she thought he was lonely just like her. Sure she had Bri, but Bri was a real downer and though Mello was too, Beau could work with him. They were here for the same reason. Bri wasn't. So she wouldn't know. Beau knew she could relate more to Mello. Plus, he wasn't bad-looking and she knew that not _every _bone in his body was cold and hard. As a wave of pain came over him, Mello gripped Beau's hand. She let his squeeze it as hard as he had to, and when he released, she felt a tear prick at her eye. She felt so bad for him. But she knew that this was the start to anyone's stay in a psych ward. They all came skinny or with fresh wounds, confused, hurting, sometimes nervous. But Beau saw more than that in Mello's eyes. She could tell that he had arrogance to him, and she could tell that he was usually tough. Being brought down like this took a toll on him greatly. "Thanks," Mello muttered, letting her hand go, but he balled his fist to his side when his back stung once again. He felt weak, nearly dizzy, and he was in a ton of pain. Beau felt a bit scared now.

She knew that bad reactions to morphine were nothing unusual, especially with more than one dosage.

"The way we suffer."


	7. Chapter 7

"Feast On,"

Beau had taken it upon herself to find Mello's doctor though she knew she would get in trouble for walking around on her own. When she found him, she explained how much pain Mello was in; the man only nodded and told her to wait outside when they got to the room. "Is there pain in any specific part of your body you could pinpoint?" he asked Mello, and gripping the sheets, Mello shook his head. The doctor pressed Mello's side when the blonde sat up. Mello winced, and when his doctor's hand eased him down onto his back, the anxiety built up more. "If I do this," he pushed down on Mello's lower stomach, "does it hurt?" Mello bit down on his lip and nodded. The young man next to him wrote a couple things down, and as he shifted his attention from Mello, Mello began to feel weaker and the room swam a bit. Finally he blacked out and lay limp on his bed.

Anaphylactic Shock.

"Bring him to the emergency room."  
"Someone get him oxygen."  
"His pulse is weak."  
"Draw some blood."  
"Elevate his legs."

The rapid constriction of Mello's airway was caused by the allergic reaction to his pain medication. As if being here wasn't hell enough. He was injected with epinephrine, which was supposed to stop the reaction. It did its job somewhat well, and with a combination of adrenaline shots, rescue breaths, and full opening of the airway. Beau was shocked, probably as he was. Everything seemed to happen to him…It was scary for her to think of his position.

-x-

Returning to his room late the next day was a relief to Mello. When he saw Beau, she was sketching on the back of an index card. "What are you writing?" Mello asked in a raspy voice. Beau shrugged. "Hey, are you feeling like yourself today?" Another shrug. "Did something happen?"

"Being around you scares me," she replied in a low voice. "Mello, I really like you and it hurts to see all of this happening to you. It's really scary. And I hardly slept last night because of what happened."

"Come here." Beau did as she was told and Mello motioned for her to sit next to him on his bed. She sat and he sat up, wrapping an arm around her. He shifted so they were both facing the same way, sitting on the scratchy sheets and blanket, in silence. "I lead a mafia. I'm from an orphanage. None of this is half as 'scary' to me. You should really calm down, ok Andrea?" Accepting his calling her by her real name, she nodded and a tear rolled down her cheek. She was younger than him, but only by two years. Mello and Beau felt the same way about each other. "Beau," he started.

"Yeah?" she asked in a shaky voice. He rubbed her shoulder. Silence filled the room for a long time.

"You don't know how much I care about you." At that, he gently hugged her and she buried her face into his shoulder, using her arm to lean around his neck. She was crying hard now. Mello couldn't help but feel upset himself by what he was seeing. He never pictured her like this. The girl didn't bother to lift her head, so her speech was muffled.

"Mello, I love you."

"The Rotting Poet"


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N This one came out…long. xD It's a little fluffy. Hope you like it!**

"How I regret,"

"_Mello, I love you."_ The words struck Mello off-guard. Dammit. He wanted to share his relative feelings but this made it harder for him to perform his final task upon discharge. He kept one hand on her shoulder and the other on her back, both wrapped around her in a tight embrace. He could start to see what he expected to come out of her. He didn't know what to do now. He didn't know about how she got when she was upset. Was she here because she couldn't piece herself back together after a breakdown? Mello figured he would find out for himself. "Want to see if we can take a walk outside?" Beau nodded. Now Mello had to be the strong one. "I'll find someone to take us." Beau let him go and he stood up and leaned out of the door until someone noticed him.

"Is there a problem?" the young woman asked kindly. Good Lord, the staff members were all so young.

"My roommate is a little upset. We wanted someone to take us for a walk, maybe around the grounds."

"Of course. I'll take you. Let me sign you out, then, we can go whenever you two are ready." Mello looked back; Beau looked up. He motioned for her to come and when she caught up to him, he held her hand, using his thumb to rub the back of it, hoping to make her feel any better. The three walked down the caged stairway in silence, spare the girl's heavy breathing. Her emotional handicap was becoming more and more obvious. She stifled her crying enough to feel the last of her tears leave her eyes and take a deep enough breath to relax herself.

"What…?" Mello asked, stopping as they reached a small sitting area. The nurse with them sat on one bench and Mello and Beau sat on one across from her, a few down for a little privacy. All in two days…"What brought this on?"

"What brought what on?" Beau asked, confused.

"Do you really feel that way about me? Why?"

"Because you're strong…but you're gentle…and…" Beau sighed and lowered her head, scrunching her shoulders in a bit. "It's something about you-"

"I didn't like you at first. Not one bit. But now…I really do feel for you."

"Like…how?" Mello wrapped his arm around her and hugged her tight, then pecked the top of her head.

"That's how." The girl blushed and rested her head on his shoulder. "Any better than before?" Beau smiled and nodded. Mello never pictured himself so content with anyone in such a setting. "It's been such a short amount of time…"

"But I already know…that I mean what I said."

"I'm not complaining, but that was quick. What was it that started it?"

"Well, before I came here, like the time when I had both my arms and stuff, I was teased so much in school…and it was started by this boy I really liked. I started cutting myself really soon after his friends pushed me against the brick wall. I hit my head and I was really anxious and confused for a long time. I felt like cutting could show them that I felt pain too. But when I came back to school, they made fun of me for wearing tall gloves and long sleeves…" She began to get misty again, but Mello just squeezed her shoulder and let her continue. "So one night I told my best friend what I was doing and she said she didn't want to be my friend as long as I was like that because she didn't want to feel responsible for me if anything happened."

Responsible. That was how Matt felt.

"So I went home from school the next night and tried to run away, but my neighbor caught me and said they wouldn't tell my parents as long as I promised not to do it again. He was a guy, and I was petrified of guys, so I just kept running. I was brought back home by the police because I said I was taking a walk and since I just moved I got lost. They believed me and my parents just kept to themselves. They thought they knew what I was doing. The same night I had one of my dad's cigarettes and left the lighter on…then dropped it. My dad came in when the smoke alarm went off and grabbed my arm to pull me away from the flame. I pulled back and he let go…I don't know why…but I sat alone in the burning room until I got the courage to try and step in and let it be over. But when the flame caught onto my sleeve, it was too painful to let me keep going. I pulled my jacket off but the fire got to my skin and started down my side. I would have died if the firemen hadn't come and gotten me at that moment. I can't remember much, but I do remember an oxygen mask going over my nose and mouth and there were tubes in my nose helping me breathe too. I wanted to give up but my body kinda fought for me even though I didn't want it to.

"I sort of recall a lot of cold water and ice treating my arm but the one thing I can never forget was being in the emergency room after the ride in the ambulance…when…my mom was crying and my dad waited by the door and my doctor said 'she's lucky she made it, but her arm has to be amputated before the infection spreads to her lungs' and my mom only cried harder and my dad came over to where I was laying…my eyes burt and I couldn't focus on him much since they were barely open, but he called me some really bad things and told me how much I hurt mom…but he said nothing about himself. Then before he and mom left, he just turned and rubbed my mom's back, and he said to me 'I hope you're pleased with yourself.' Then all I can remember is a really long needle going up my back. I think I yelped or screamed or something, but they made me lay down on it and then it was just…black."

"Epidural…" Mello mused to himself. "That's what that was?"

"Yeah, that's the word. Epidural. It's like a thin needle on an IV stand that goes into your spine to make all feeling and pain go away…They make you sit hunched over and pull your knees to your chest…and when the needle goes in they push it fast to make it quicker but you feel like you're gonna die right there." Mello nodded. She felt bad for him? This girl had gone through hell.

"What happened when you woke up and found out your arm was missing?"

"Well, the surgery to get rid of my arm was really hard because the anesthetic didn't work right away but they had to get it off fast, so they started to operate while I was still…fading." Mello cringed a bit at the thought. "The tourniquet used to stop the bleeding felt like a really big rubber band, just forced high up by my shoulder. But that wasn't too bad…I only went under after I felt them start to cut into the skin. I guess I literally cried myself to sleep. When I woke up in my hospital room…well…they explained what the surgery was like and it made me throw up."

"If you don't want to explain it that's perfectly fine. I don't want you feeling uncomfortable."

"Nah, I've gotten over it. They take some kind of saw and just go right through the bone. Then there's like a thousand people controlling the blood loss while, like, two people use skin from the off-part to sew the stump thing together. Then there's a crap load of gauze and bandaged put over it, and they bring you to your room once you're nearly knocked out on pain meds. My mom was there when I woke up and told me that my dad ran away because he didn't want to deal with me anymore. That's what made me afraid of guys."

"Then what attracted you to me?"

"I dunno. Maybe that you just…accepted me. I mean, recovery took forever I had to go through it here. They actually transfer you from one hospital to the other in an ambulance just for the hell of it." She giggled a little. "Like, you weren't ok with me at first but you didn't have to really show it with violence or anything. Unlike the others…you controlled yourself. And even though you hated me you were nice to be around."

"I didn't hate you. You were just annoying at first. Look, I was real pissed about being here and it almost made me jealous to see someone so happy."

"Jealous…of someone who's happy? How's that? What was your life like before you came here? Was it that bad?"

"Yeah, it was. But you can continue."

"All I really have to say is that my recovery isn't over. I still can't do half the stuff I used to be able to do. But come_ on! _I wanna hear about you!" she fake-whined. Mello sighed and rolled his eyes, smirking.

"Fine. I'm basically an orphan. Well, no, I _am_ an orphan. I've been in Wammy's House for years…there's not much I can tell you about it but they raise us to replace L when he dies. I'm the second runner up to this albino freakish kid."

"You mean _you_ can possibly go as _L _one day?"

"Pretty much."

"Then why throw it away like you tried?"

"Well, the pressure of succeeding L was just too much, especially with big-headed Near in the way. Plus, I didn't really like Wammy's at all, so I felt forced. And, either way, I didn't really feel like I belonged there anyways. Well, anywhere. So when I took my mafia together..let's just say they became uncivil. So when I decided to give up and kill myself, I went to appoint a new don and this one guy, Glen, got worked up and pulled his knife on me. Basically thrust it into my back and twisted it in the actual muscle, which got messed up badly." Beau listened, extremely interested and nearly pained to hear it. "So in surgery, it was replaced and shit, but I'm not there yet. I decided to go home and end it for good. So I cut my wrist. Only three times but the third was forced enough to split this vein…" he pointed on Beau's wrist since his was wrapped. She nodded, and stayed silent. "Matt was there. He tried to pull the razor out of my hand but his hand slipped so it just jabbed right into my wrist."

"Didn't it hurt?"

"Well, it felt good to a degree but the pain grew once I saw the blood come out."

"Oh."

"Yeah. So, he took a curtain or something and I just remember him saying stuff and laying me against the window so he could have more of the curtain to work with. Then L and Watari came and it was a big commotion. When I woke up here they explained to me that my back and shoulder are infected and mt wrist is constantly being packed now because with the staples, it's clotting. I thought the stitches were enough but then popping them ruined the purpose.

"I told you." Beau replied, smirking.

"Yeah, you did." He hugged her in and rested his chin on her head. "Now, I have two questions for you."

"Yeah?"

"Ok, first, how long have you been here?"

"Long enough. I've been living here for a while."

"Good enough. And second, would it be alright to say that I love you back?"

"It's fine. Wait-you do?" Mello nervously nodded. The once hard-shelled, strong teenager was developing a soft spot for a girl. Beau smiled widely and gripped his hand. "Ready to go back?"

"When you are."

-x-

Day 1 seemed to take years to end. Being transferred in the dark morning, having only met Beau…he only met her today. Already they were so close…and they had only met today? The girl really clung to him. He knew she was lonely, but how strongly did she feel about him? He would have to find out. Day 1 continued with Watari, then Matt, trying to make sense of the situation. It had ended with more panic-a bad reaction to the morphine. And now, Day 2 was coming to an end. So much had already happened…and as long as this seemed in the moment, it was all too fast. Mello had to face it sooner or later. He was in a psychiatric ward. He was loved and admired by a handicapped girl.

Day 1 was over. And now, Day 2 was following.

"Everything that I said."


	9. Chapter 9

"Take a breath,"

Mello sat up, shivering, another cold sweat wracking at his body. A nervous dream had made sleeping a hard concept to grasp yet again. It had only been a few hours since Beau, the night owl, fell asleep and he was having trouble closing his eyes without feeling the regret of giving himself up to her.

It made him feel weak. _She_ made him feel weak.

He wanted to take back everything he had said but he knew it would hurt both of them. He did love her, but coming from the streets, he knew love was not an appropriate feeling for someone like him. Someone like him…what did it even mean? No one was like him.

He led a mafia not too long ago.

He was an orphan.

He fantasized about death.

When he considered it that simply, there had to be other people like that, no? But then he had to take in the other aspects of himself that made him more than that. As he eased himself back down onto his back, the healing stab wound hit the bed early and he jumped a bit at the reflex. God…none of these events were far apart. He could clearly remember the changes made in the past week.

He'd left the mafia and tried to end his life. He'd been patched together and shipped off to the psych ward. He'd met Beau. He'd done so much in only a week…

It seemed like he'd been here forever but it was only three days so far. Three sleepless nights, three long days that made all of this worse.

What had Mihael Keehl really become? Who was the young man with such confidence now? Now he was tightly wrapped at the wrist and stapled shut in the back. Now he found himself in such a demeaning place with too many people that had authority over him. Mello was used to being in control. Goddammit-he thought it would stay that way.

But of all places he could end up, why here? Was it because his God wanted it to be that way for his own good, or for punishment's sake? Was this because He wanted him more or to teach him a lesson? Because if He wanted to claim Mello, Mello would help him out the minute he was out of this hellhole. He looked over at the soundly sleeping teenage girl next to him. She was so innocent…but no, his thoughts so often trailed back to this and it was becoming taunting to have to wonder of the same thing so many times. He didn't want to keep stuck on her for much longer, but he always found himself trailing back to meet her. What was it about her that attracted him? What was it that sparked his interest? Was it her strength for having lost a limb-was it her strength for facing her problems rather than feeding into and ignoring them?

But now wasn't the time for questions. It was a time for Mello to try and calm his panicked mind down and try to fall back asleep. He didn't want to go through with this any more. He knew he'd made progress, so why couldn't he just go home. But…what was progress, even? Was progress but what those young nurses used as credit to leave this place?

Home.

Home.

Wammy's House-none of this would end there. Beau would be in his thoughts, Kitai would be in his thoughts, and every damned thing he thought of would without a doubt find its way back here again. Which resurrected his original idea from days ago.

What was the point of hanging around for useless crap to be thrown at him?

When he could leave this place, he could leave this world. That was his plan, his goal. That was what he was set on accomplishing. He kept on this matter for no longer than another 10 minutes before his mind tired and his eyes ached from staring up at the blank lifeless ceiling. He gripped his thumb in the palm of his hand and leaned back, just hoping to close his eyes and never open them again. "God, please end this," he breathed, and closed his eyes. "End it all."

"Don't it sound so easy?"


	10. Chapter 10

"All the same; take me away"

Wammy's House; July 9th

"Matt, grab me a water," Near sighed, looking over his files, trying to be as nice as possibly. It was hard in frustration, but he knew Matt still hadn't gotten over this petty nonsense and therefore was of little to no use at all at this point. "Make yourself useful."

"Useful? I can do what you want. I can handle more than going around finding you food and shit all day, alright?"

"Matt, calm down and get me a drink."

"I've had it with you…"

"What was that, Mail?" Near's soft, fluid voice sent a chill up his spine.

"Nothing. Here-catch." Matt tossed the bottle of water and Near caught it. Damn. If he didn't, that would have made Matt's day. The redhead signed and slid down the wall to sit by the exit.

"Is something the matter?" Near asked, without bothering to look behind. "Other than…?"

"No."

"Alright." And the albino boy went back to work. Matt stood up, left, trudged down the hall to Watari's office. The elder noticed him, and looked up smiling.

"Please, come in and sit. Is there anything I can help you with?" Watari's placid smile returned to his pale lips. Matt did, and slouched over, holding his head in his hands. Watari's expression fell. "Are you still having a hard time with Mello's absence? It's alright if you are. I am too, Matt." Matt didn't lift his head but nodded with his face in his palms. "Ok, I can promise you that he's doing better now since you saw him last. And 72-hour watch is over, so he may be returning shortly."

"I guess so."

"I know, Matt, it's hard. We can't get as much done without him. And being separated from a best friend, no matter for how long, is painful as well." Matt was still and the two fell into a brief silence. "Are you sure you can handle this on your own? You don't look that good." Matt just nodded, but Watari knew it wasn't the full truth. Matt was never good with change, and usually he had a friend to help him through tough times. Unintentionally and unknowingly, this friend was causing them. "Mail, you know that Mihael will be fine there, and it's the best place for him to be. I couldn't keep him here at suicide risk. In Kitai, they know how to handle that. I don't. None of us do."

"I was just so…concerned…when I saw him dressing real heavy last summer."

"I suspected that he had been self-mutilating but I needed more evidence before I could confront him on it. I must have missed any signs before his suicide attempt."

"Maybe there were none."

"Maybe you're right. Matt, you're a very bright young man and I have to ask you-did you keep anything you may have seen as a secret?" Matt shook his head and broke down crying. Watari stood and stepped towards Matt, then reached to rest his warm, calloused hand on the boy's back. "That doesn't make you a bad person. You were the closest friend to him, and if you didn't see anything wrong, then he hid it really well. That's all, Mail. And, I need you to just be there for him and listen to him when he comes back. But if he says anything suspicious, tell me, ok?"

"Ok."

"If you missed any actions leading up to what happened, I fully believe that there were none. Tell me, honestly, since Mello started cutting himself, have you ever thought of doing anything similar."

"No. Not at all…The first night he was gone I was wondering why he'd do that. I…I just couldn't be able to tolerate that kind of pain and just knowing that he was addicted to it…What's wrong with him?" Matt added forcefully. "What was going through his mind when he…?"

"Matt, we don't know."

"Alright. I'm sorry."

"There's no reason to apologize for your concern. And I'm glad you were honest with me. I appreciate it Matt, alright? You can go back if you want, and if you need anything else, come back."

"We're dead to the world"


	11. Chapter 11

"Or else you,"

Mello grunted and rolled onto his side in his bed; it was late in the day but he couldn't give a damn less. Beau was already out-something he hadn't had happen yet. Usually, for her own peace of mind, she would wait for him to wake up and make sure everything was ok before doing anything, but today was different (apparently.) Groaning slightly, he glanced back to see the door; he knew no one was there but he still found it necessary to check. He grew to hate the feeling of being alone. Mello used to love the feeling, but here he truly wasn't on his own. He was confined to small white rooms and a courtyard. He no longer felt like himself. No mafia leader who could kill a man in an instant should ever end up in a psychiatric hospital because he couldn't succeed in killing himself. Where was Beau? Maybe she didn't want to bother him while he was sleeping. He couldn't think of another reason. Mello pressed the call button and waited for one of the nurses to come. He asked her to bring him to lunch but the hospital was on lockdown.

Beau. This wasn't a coincidence. She must have had something to do with this. Why else would she be outside when no one else was?

Surprisingly to him, he didn't feel true panic at first, just slight concern as to why she would put the building on lockdown. It was unsettling to know that Beau had gotten herself into trouble. Well, she had been acting a little less like herself for the past few hours of last night. But that couldn't have turned to catastrophe so quickly.

Surprisingly to him, he didn't feel true panic at first, just slight concern as to why she would put the building on lockdown. It was unsettling to know that Beau had gotten herself into trouble. Well, she had been acting a little less like herself for the past few hours of last night. But that couldn't have turned to catastrophe so quickly, could it?

The minute he sat down on his bed with the nurse in the doorway to watch him and stay out of the way should there be an emergency, Mello heard some yelling from down the hall-wait, wasn't the watch room down the hall? Oh, shit…what had she gotten herself into?

"Get away from me!" Beau shoved her prime doctor into the wall of the 72-hour watch room and backed up, but her arm was held behind her and she was forced to the ground. She thrashed, letting the real emotions inside of her come forward.

"Andrea, you'll be fine."

"I won't! My mother is dead, What am I supposed to do now!?" It was a mixture of hate and fear running down the girl's cheeks in the form of glistening tears. A second doctor took her arm but she yanked it away, nearly pulling out her elbow. "Don't touch me, bastard!"

"Someone, get security," one called, and Beau finally pulled away and stepped to the other side of the room. She was faced immediately by a few caretakers, two with needles and three others approaching to hold her against the wall. One held her elbow down, while the other two took her shoulders.

Beau had lost control.

She screamed to the top of her lungs when the first needle began to slither into her forearm. When the second sedative was injected, Beau yanked her arm away, turning the once delicate procedure into a tug of war, a struggle for control. It was pinned back to the wall and the second doctor tried once more to get the tip of the needle through the girl's flesh. When she began to tremble, he quickly yet gently pushed the plunger and retracted the needle; Beau yelped again and dropped herself to the floor.

The third doctor, who was just coming in, eased the fading girl to her back on the cold floor. Beau remained calm while she was looked over, partly because the sedative had kicked in and partly because she'd lost most of the will to fight back. After 20 minutes or so, she was taken to her therapist.

Andrea's mother had dropped dead in her home. No one knew how or why.

"Do you want to go back to your room and rest?" Beau was asked. Stifling her tears, she nodded. "Ok, come with me."

-x-

"Mihael, may I speak to you outside for a moment?" the counselor requested as Beau curled up on her bed.

"Oh…sure…" He followed the woman to the hallway.

"Andrea's mother passed away last night of an unknown cause."

"G-God…is Andrea alright?"

"I'm keeping an aid in your room but I want you to watch her too. Is that alright?"

"Of course. No problem."

"Thank you," So Mello went back to find Beau silently hugging her pillow, biting down on her lip until it bled.

"Beau, I'm sorry…"

"No need to be. It's my problem, not yours."

"Well, it is now." He sat next to her and she cuddled next to him.

"Where am I supposed to go when I get out of here?"

"I really can't answer that. Are you gonna be ok?"

"I just want to be alone."

"You can't."

"I have to. You can't get involved. Please," she wearily begged.

"Andrea, look at me."

"Why!?" Mello cupped her face in his hands.

"Are you planning on hurting yourself right now?" No answer. "You need help if that's what you want to do and you know that. You've been here long enough to know that…"

"You don't understand, Mello!"

"I don't? I'm an orphan, remember?" Silence fell between the two. Just the thought of Beau feeling this way was enough to keep Mello reserved. And as for Beau-all she wanted was to see her mother. No matter how. "I have to find somebody…there was supposed to be an aid coming-"

"No! Mello, please, if you love me you'll let me deal with this on my own."

"No. This is how I show love, and I want to keep you safe. All you'll accomplish is getting yourself into elcetroconclusive therapy." Before Beau could even think of doing anything about it, Mello stood and rushed into the hall. "My roommate is thinking of hurting herself," he informed the nearest person. And then it hit him that he'd given in to leaving her alone.

The sound of footsteps filled the halls almost as quickly as an echoing scream did.

"Jesus-" Mello didn't feel up to seeing what'd happened but he knew he had to. So he stepped in his room to find the girl's hip gushing blood and a shattered painting, cased in a glass frame (also in pieces) by the wall; a shard of glass gripped in her trembling hand. "Goddammit!" Mello watched as a nurse pressed gauze under a towel to the cut and his stomach churned. Just as Beau finally fainted, Mello heard a voice from behind and a hand met his shoulder,

"You're scheduled to come home today, Mihael. I don't suppose anyone told you?" Watari.

"N-no…"

"I signed you out. I know now is a bad time but are you ready to go?" Mello just nodded, found his belongings in his safe, and followed Watari out the door. He thought freedom would be great, but on that note, it wasn't.

"Will dig my grave."


	12. Chapter 12 FINALE

"Who's there, knocking at my window?"

Watari thought he understood what was going through Mello's mind when he saw what was going on, so he proofed Mello's room and let him skip classes that day to rest. Mello mainly kept to himself, searching for something to bring him relief.

He found what Watari didn't; his gun lay behind the bloodied curtains. Of course, Matt decided to eat in their room to keep his friend company. "Coming in, Mel!" He opened the door, looked down, and threw up where he was standing.

Instead of finding Mello sleeping or lying down, he found him with a gun next to his hand, blood gushing from his throat.

"The owl and the dead boy."

FIN


End file.
